


kaleidoscope minds

by abundantstars



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Art, College, F/M, Fluff, Introspection, Nude Modeling, Self-Indulgent, Students, maybe a second part?? idk, not edited, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27486268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abundantstars/pseuds/abundantstars
Summary: “Who is that?” The words left her lips before she had time to think about what she’d said.“You.”She turned back to him, “That isnotme. There’s no way. How–?”“This is how I see you.”______Rey signs up to be a nude model for the 2D figure drawing class.Ben is taking said art class.
Relationships: Rey & Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 22
Kudos: 125





	kaleidoscope minds

When she agreed to do this, she thought of the extra cash she’d be getting. Rey saw the flyer around campus: “NUDE MODEL FOR 2D FIGURE DRAWING, $20 AN HOUR, 10 HOURS A WEEK.” How could she say no to that? $200 a week, on top of what she made at Niima’s Garage? Of course she snatched the flyer, e-mailed the professor, and agreed to do it.

But now? Now she was walking into the art building and felt the butterflies in her stomach. Her palms were sweaty as anxiety pumped through her veins. She was about to be naked–for hours–in front of other students. What if she saw them outside of that classroom? They would know what she looked like naked. How could they look each other in the eyes with that kind of information?

She let out a heavy breath as she climbed the stairs to the second floor classrooms, making sure to keep an eye out for room 237. The longer it took for her to find the room, the more she got inside her head. She kept reminding herself that she only accepted this side job for the extra cash, that anyone else would have done it if they were in her shoes as well. Once she rounded the corner, she met her fate. Her heart kind of stopped in her chest with the realization that she was really about to  
walk into a classroom and strip.

“Maker help me,” she muttered before turning the knob.

There were a few students in the class, maybe 12 all together, and that helped. She thought it would be a class of 40 to 50 students, and the idea of that many people watching her made her uneasy. All the students were sat in a circle with an easel in front of them, leaving a space at the center for Rey. There was a wooden chair and a blanket waiting for her when she was ready. They were doing some sketching warm ups when the professor finally looked up from a student’s work and noticed her.

“Ah, there you are! We’ll get started soon. There’s a robe and a divider at the back of the classroom where you can get undressed,” Professor Holdo pointed out.

With a nod, Rey shuffled to the back and got undressed. It was odd changing in a classroom because she could see the shadows of the students through the divider. You were meant to strip in a bedroom, not a classroom.

It was really happening.

She wrapped the robe around her and made her way to the middle of the circle. She tried to avoid looking them in the eyes with the hopes of avoiding any awkward interactions, but when she mustered enough courage to look up, a few students offered her a smile to ease some of the tension.

“Alrighty class, this is our model, Rey. Everyone say hi,” Professor Holdo introduced her. Rey was met with a chorus of “hellos” and “hi’s” and all their eyes on her. It was more intimidating than anything when the professor then turned to her and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

“Ready” never came, just waves of nerves. But then she realised that they weren’t going to start drawing until she took a seat. She slowly made her way to the chair and pondered for a moment on which position would be the most comfortable for 2 hours. She decided on a seated position with her right elbow perched on the arm of the chair. She took her seat and loosely wrapped the sheet around her left leg once at the knee, again at the top of her thigh, and placed a sliver between her legs to cover her center. She then slowly untied the knot at the front of the robe, exposing her sternum to her stomach to the class. She fumbled with trying to shrug the robe off, but when she managed, she dropped it beside her chair. Then she brought the rest of the sheet across her chest to cover her right breast, and wrapped the remaining sheet around her fist. Once she was settled against the back of the chair, she rested her fabric wrapped hand against her collarbone.

The weight of their stares was heavy. Objectively, she knew that they were using her body as inspiration for their artwork, but that didn’t mean they weren’t _looking_ at her body. Perhaps it was her insecurities that ate at her. She had gained weight since the beginning of freshman year, she was curvier in the waist, but she didn’t gain any weight in her breasts. They were still just as small as before. Her thighs and stomach were fleshy and had more shape to them than she liked to admit. Now strangers were going to point them out and draw all of her insecurities onto paper for the whole world to see.

Her heart sank.

The sound of the students graphite and charcoal dragging across their bristol boards snapped her out of her thoughts. She took this moment to look around the room and study everyone as they studied her body. If they were focused on her body, they wouldn’t make eye contact. There were more women in this class, much to her surprise, but there were three men that sat along the far right wall. One of which had the most intense stare. His eyes were like molten embers, searing her image into his mind. His eyes flickered between her and his bristol board, with his brows furrowed and bottom lip taken between his teeth in concentration.

He was beautiful. If anyone needed to be where she was sitting, it was him. He had the sort of unconventional beauty that drew her in. He had a strong nose, an uneven jawline, and ears that stuck out from his tufts of hair. She watched as his eyes wandered up her body, finally meeting her gaze. For a moment she forgot herself.

He looked at her as if she were a goddess, blessing him with her presence. She felt the blush blossom in her chest and creep up to her cheeks. She panicked because she was afraid that people would notice her obvious blush, but nobody would know _why_ she was blushing. She quickly averted her gaze and found anything else to focus on.

After a while she noticed that people would zero in on one part of her body and they would get creases in their foreheads from how hard they were concentrating. She wondered if sketching someone naked was just as hard as being the naked person. She’d give anything to be that talented. Somewhere along the line, she began to loosen up and relax. She closed her eyes and began to enjoy the sound of pencils scratching against paper. It was easier if she didn’t think about it.

***

Ben had a hard time choosing a place to start. Would he start with her face and her freckles, or would he start on her legs and work his way up? Her nerves were palpable, from the nervous glaces and the shuffling.

He felt for her.

Truly.

Being a model was hard enough, but being a nude model has to be harder because your body is on display for everyone to see and criticize. The more detail the better, as Professor Holdo always said.

He took his time making sure he got her shape right, that his contour lines were darker than his sketch lines, and he didn’t miss any detail that was utterly her. She had freckles and freckles were hard to draw accurately, and Ben was a perfectionist. He wanted to draw her exactly as he saw her: beautifully human. He loved that she had wrapped the sheet around herself, not only to preserve her most intimate part, but because it gave his piece texture. She was slightly positioned away from him so that he could get a perfect window of her in 3/4th view, and the shadows she casted were haunting silhouettes, and the cream fabric against her tan skin was a lovely contrast.  
She was intricate without even trying, absolutely breathtaking to say the least.

He caught her gaze once and he almost dropped his 4B graphite. Shortly afterwards, she continued to look around the room to find something to look at while all he could do was look at her. He was drawn to her beauty and the need to draw exactly what he saw before himself. Once he finally got through her outline, he began to create definition by shading and highlighting different areas across her body; the valley of her breasts, the dip in her collarbones, the width of her hips–each part that demanded his utmost attention.  
Everyone had their own style, so there wasn’t a right or wrong way to draw her, but he was sure that nobody else would put in as much detail as he would. They wouldn’t draw the spray of freckles that scattered across her shoulders, the few stretchmarks across her hips, or the small scar that graced her cheek because they deemed them as flaws.

But not to him.

It took him longer to add those desired details, erasing and starting over in order to get her _just right_. He struggled with shading where the fabric laid against her skin because he didn’t want to obstruct the tone of her skin, given her tan. He smoothed his lines out with his 2B graphite and added the flyaway hairs that curled around her face. He also struggled with portraying the meekness that he saw in her eyes. She may have been nude and outside of her comfort zone (based on her constant readjusting) but she was very much the person in charge.

That’s what struck him the hardest: how could someone be so meek yet hold so much power?

Time flew by, and before he knew it, Professor Holdo was calling time. It pained him to hear that the class was over because he wasn’t finished. He doubted he would ever have enough time to finish putting all her beauty onto paper.  
Everyone else finalized their portraits and began to pack up for the night, but Ben. Ben continued to blend the shades of greys with his fingers, add the final highlights to her eyes, and sign the bottom with his signature.

“Can I move?” She startled him.

“I’m sorry?” He questioned, poking his head out from around his easel.

“I asked if I could move. Are you done?” She reiterated as she began to pull the sheet over her body, covering herself from any other prying eyes.

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Ben fumbled out, “Sorry for keeping you. I’m sure you have other places to be.”

“I don’t,” she said whilst getting up, “Do you mind if I look?”

This time it was his turn to be shy.

“Look?” He wondered aloud. “At my sketch?”

She nodded weakly.

“Sure,” He offered quietly while scooting his chair away from his easel, leaving just enough room for her to come around and take a look for herself.

She wrapped the sheet around herself and patted over to his station. Ben could feel his heartbeat thrumming against his chest and the panic within him rose. He wanted her to like what he drew, he wanted her to like _him_ , his mind offered last second. Rey turned to look at what he had spent that last 2 hours drawing, and needless to say, she was shocked.

“Who is that?” The words left her lips before she had time to think about what she’d said.

“You.”

She turned back to him, “That is _not_ me. There’s no way. How–?”

“This is how I see you.”

“But this, this is beautiful. She’s beautiful,” Rey sputtered out in disbelief.

“I know,” was all Ben said, “But those are your freckles, and your scar that’s on your cheek, is it not?”

Rey nodded, her mouth slightly agape.

“I may not _know_ you, but I _see_ you.”


End file.
